


the boyfriend remix

by ascience



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Borussia Dortmund, Didn't Know They Were Dating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-05 10:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6701395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ascience/pseuds/ascience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team starts visiting gay bars and everybody loves Shinji. Ilkay does, too, and plays the boyfriend part a little too well for someone who is not, uh, a boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the boyfriend remix

It’s Marco’s idea.

And that’s the funny thing about the whole story. No matter how weird it sounds and no matter how many questions others might ask about how it all came to be – a lot of catastrophes in and around Dortmund can be explained by saying that, after all, it was Marco’s idea.

Ilkay notices Marco and Henrikh bickering during warm-up already, but when he tries to listen in, Shinji swats at him.

“You have to concentrate,” Shinji says earnestly, which Ilkay has to admit is true, because he’s going to have to work hard to get back into the starting eleven after his injury.

“You’re right,” Ilkay replies, focusing on pulling up his knees for the stretching exercise again. “Thanks.”

“See, I look out for you, too!”

It would be wrong to say that he had missed Shinji during his injury break, simply because they had still met up at least every other day. Shinji had come by to watch TV with him in the evening, and Ilkay made it a point to visit training just to sit and watch a couple of times. Schmelle had eyed him and told him that he should have at least brought pompoms if he was going to stay the whole time. That was frankly too much of a challenge so Ilkay had started rhyming cheers about Shinji until Tuchel told him to shut up or he’d sell him to Manchester United.

Point is, it’s not like Ilkay is suffering from any kind of Shinji withdrawal, so to speak, but it’s still different to be back on the pitch with him, a better type of energy.

They pass balls in a circle for the next ten minutes and since Ilkay’s back everyone thinks he deserves a welcoming which translates to getting shot at quite often. Well, everyone except Adrian (who’s too kind), Shinji (who seems kind of lost) and Auba and Marco (who are talking about something that involves Marco animatedly doing dance moves when he doesn’t have the ball).

But all in all, training goes well, exhausting but satisfying. Tuchel even compliments him, and Ilkay will gratuitously take the wink as a careful promise for a spot in the starting eleven some time soon.

Ilkay trots into the dressing room after his talk with the coach, and he can’t wait to tell Shinji about it, but unjustly he has to wait until Shinji’s out of the showers to drop the news.

Ilkay sits down in front of his locker and unties his shoes, while Henrikh and Marco are still arguing as they change clothes, Auba nodding next to them with one earphone in.

“I’m just saying,” Marco says, probably repeating it for the hundredth time if judging from Henrikh’s face, “we could have a _super cool_ evening – or we could have an _eh_ evening. Unmemorable. Forgotten in the sands of time. Embarrassing.”

“I didn’t realise we were aiming for a particularly memorable one, different from all other team evenings where we drink, promise not to talk football and do anyway.” Henrikh sighs and shrugs. “But whatever, you’re right. We should do more fun stuff. “

“What’s going on?” Ilkay asks, looking from Henrikh to Marco for explanation.

“We’re going to a gay bar today,” Marco announces gleefully, and Ilkay swears everyone in the room perks up. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh, I can imagine it,” Gonzo butts in, laughing. “Monday morning, front page, _The entirety of Borussia Dortmund confirmed as gay_.” He writes the words into the air as if writing the newspaper headline.

“You do know we have more teams than just us here, right?” Ilkay reminds them, but it’s not like he’s opposed to the plan much.

Marco tilts his head.

“Huh. Guilty by association then. Which you all are anyway by being friends with me, so suck it up.”

“Who said I’m friends with you?” Ilkay replies, eyebrow arched.

“He’s only friends with me,” a voice behind Ilkay says – and naturally it’s Shinji who’s just walked out of the showers. He drops down on the bench next to Ilkay and nudges his shoulder, shy smile on his face.

Shinji’s wet hair is hanging over his eyes, and some droplets land on Ilkay’s arm and shirt as well.

“Friends of mine towel off,” Ilkay replies, tongue numb as he has Shinji leaning over him, and hands Shinji one of his towels. Sadly that’s the wittiest comeback he can think of.

“Anyways,” Marco speaks up again, drawing out the _s_ of the word. “You all better get a move on, ‘cause the party is like me. It don’t wait!” He throws up his hands in a motion that impresses about no one, although Auba nods supportively.

The others go back to changing clothes and getting ready, while Shinji turns to Ilkay.

“So where are we going for the evening?”

“Oh, yeah, that was what Marco was all about,” Ilkay replies, stuffing his clothes into his bag. “We’re going to a gay bar.”

Shinji laughs and the lines around his eyes crinkle. “Marco’s idea, huh?”

“Who else?”

 

* * *

 

The bar is nice and less dark than Ilkay would have expected.

The team takes up three entire tables by itself and even then it’s still really crowded. They order drinks and talk like they’ve done in any old straight bar before, and it takes some time for Ilkay to realise why Marco was so set on visiting this club.

By 10pm Marco’s right arm looks about as tattooed as his left one by all the phone numbers he’s got written on there in Sharpie, while Auba moves suspiciously close to him on the dance floor and Marco doesn’t care about smudging the numbers anymore.

Ilkay, however, is fine just sitting here, drinking his beer. Shinji by his side. They’re not even talking much, just nodding about whatever the others around them are saying and watching each other doing mundane stuff like lifting their glasses.

Shinji is laughing along as Lukasz is dared to text Kuba a selfie from the gay bar, when Ilkay suddenly remembers what he wanted to tell him.

“By the way, I totally forgot,” Ilkay says, poking Shinji’s arm. “Earlier Tuchel said I was doing well today and did his whole ‘you’ll get your opportunity’ thing. I’m pretty confident.”

“You’re gonna play?”

“I wouldn’t bet on it, but...”

Shinji beams and engulfs Ilkay in a hug that takes him by suprise. Ilkay closes his arms around Shinji, feeling his soft shirt and Shinji’s breath on his neck.

“That’s awesome,” Shinji mumbles after a moment, and Ilkay nods.

“I’m going to score a goal for you. From your assist.”

“Going to do it first.”

“Shut up,” Ilkay says, grinning. “You’ve been scoring way too many anyway.”

The conversation is interrupted by Lukasz clearing his throat and sliding a colourful cocktail towards Shinji, who carefully frees himself from the hug.

“I didn’t order this.”

“I know you didn’t. A waiter brought it and said it’s paid for by the guy in blue sitting over there.” He indeed points at some dude in blue who’s waving at their table.

“Oh,” Shinji says, then he blinks at Ilkay like he’s supposed to tell him what to do. It’s a look asking for help, one that Ilkay’s been on the receiving end of a thousand times.

Ilkay frowns and hunches his shoulders, doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly angry at the blue guy. He puts his arm around Shinji and throws a glance towards the other guy again. “Maybe he wants an autograph.”

He doesn’t look like he wants an autograph.

“Maybe,” Lukasz snorts, rolling his eyes. “The other four guys probably only wanted an autograph, too. Makes sense.”

“The other four guys?”

“Yep. Sorry, those drinks got caught somewhere between Gonzo and Adrian while you two lovebirds were hugging it out.”

“Are you serious?” Shinji asks and looks at Ilkay, but it’s not like he can offer a better translation.

“Everyone seems to like you.”

Lukasz follows up his words with a pointed look, but Ilkay wasn’t born yesterday and takes a nip from his drink to evade it. Not today.

While apparently considering the whole thing, Shinji bites his lip and then pushes the cocktail away from him in a swift motion.

Ilkay feels a weird bout of satisfaction before he realises that Shinji might have put the drink away, but only to make sure it doesn’t fall over as he stands up.

“I should say thanks,” Shinji explains and – Ilkay almost doesn’t believe it – makes his way up to the guy in blue across the room.

“Did not expect that,” Lukasz comments dryly and Ilkay wishes he’d mind his own business, which is a bullshit thought, because how is this _Ilkay_ ’s business exactly?

Nobody else at the table seems to notice or care, all too caught up in their own conversations – or in one case, in trying to make Julian blush just by reading the cocktail menu out loud.

Meanwhile Shinji actually sits down with his admirer, and even thought Ilkay has to peer past several dancing and kissing couples, he can see Shinji nod and laugh as they talk.

Not to be bitter, Ilkay thought bitterly, but this was supposed to be a team evening, by the team, for the team. The guy who was now touching Shinji’s arm was decidedly not _team_.

Maybe Ilkay was specifically this annoyed because this was supposed to be their evening to celebrate him being back on his feet, with a real chance to get play time in the next match already. Suddenly this whole bar idea doesn’t seem so cool anymore.

“Lighten up, Illy,” Lukasz pipes up cheekily again, because he can’t keep his mouth shut. “I don’t think Shinji’s a damsel in distress. No need to watch him like some up-tight prom chaperon. I think people have bought him drinks before.”

“Get fucked,” Ilkay replies, a little too forcefully, because, _no, on a team evening they haven’t_ , but he’s quick to smile when Shinji suddenly pushes back his chair and leaves the guy alone at his table, not even with an autograph.

 

* * *

 

It turns into a regular happening.

Two things do, actually – the going to gay bars and the Shinji getting free drinks – and Marco has an explanation for both.

“You _know_ I always have the best ideas,” he says, “and I think it’s his face.”

“Whose face?” Ilkay asks, absentmindedly stirring his fruit drink with the ridiculous glitter umbrella thing. He didn’t pay for the drink, somebody bought it for Shinji who is now fuck knows where, probably politely saying thanks like the cordial asshole he is.

“Shinji’s face. That’s why he gets all the drinks. He’s, hm, lovable.”

Ilkay huffs. “So what’s your excuse? You get drinks and numbers, too. Can’t be because of your face.”

Marco just flips him off with a huge grin on his face and shakes his ass as he walks back onto the dance floor.

Schmelle then tries to engage Ilkay in a conversation, but you can only look at so many pictures of the same dogs over and over again.  
It’s true salvation when Shinji drops onto the chair next to Ilkay again, drawing his hand through his hair tiredly.

“So,” Ilkay says because he doesn’t know what else to say without sounding selfish about wanting to have Shinji by his side for the whole evening.

“I signed so many body parts just now,” Shinji laughs, as if incredulous about what body parts _specifically_ they were.

Ilkay doesn’t want to know so he just hmmms, wondering whether Shinji’s German really is enough to understand what some of those guys might have wanted. Then again, common sense should have taken care of that.

And anyway, it’s not Ilkay’s right or job to interfere with whatever Shinji wants to do. They’re both grown-ups and at that, friends.

“Are you... jealous?” Shinji suddenly asks then, and it seems awfully loud to Ilkay, even over the music that’s playing.

“What?” he splutters.

“Because I get all those drinks?”

“No! No, I mean it’s your – “

“If it’s worth anything, I do think you look handsome,” Shinji cuts him off, talking more in direction of his own hands than to Ilkay.

Oh. Ilkay realises Shinji wasn’t talking about him being jealous of all the guys, but him being jealous of Shinji. Whatever.

Shinji awkwardly pats Ilkay’s knee under the table and Ilkay replies, “Thanks,” trying to mirror the lopsided smile.

Afterwards there is some strange sort of tension and stiltedness that’s so different from their usual way around each other that Ilkay can only explain it by pretending he’s imagining it.

But of course Ilkay is still brooding over the whole thing when the conversation has already moved onto the next topic, and even still when Nuri comes over to their booth from the other table.

“Scootch over, son,” Nuri says to Schmelle as he obviously wants to sit next to him. Which means the entire side has to move a bit and suddenly Ilkay is sitting awfully close to Shinji. Way closer than before.

If Ilkay was inattentive before, then this is the point where the conversation squirms out of his hands entirely, because it’s hard to concentrate when he feels Shinji breathing at this side. Ilkay didn’t realise that the touch of their thighs was apparently, like, a _thing_ in his life.

Shinji is almost sitting in his lap now, leaning half over him, as close as they have definitely been before, but suddenly different. Ilkay curses every single guy who bought Shinji a drink – except perhaps the one who bought the cocktail that Ilkay is now holding onto for his dear life.

He feels out of balance, thrown from awkwardness to this sudden hyperfocus. It’s like wobbling on a wonky chair, complete with the sensation of falling over the faint smell of Shinji’s aftershave.

The perfume is a brand that Ilkay knows, because Shinji actually stole it from him some time ago when they were in training camp, and maybe that’s better than an autograph?

Ilkay shakes his head, trying to get his thoughts in order.

“Do you want another drink?” Shinji asks with concern, and Ilkay just silently nods, his cheeks burning. Distraction sounds like a good plan. Distraction that’s not provided by some random dude who thinks Shinji is cute anyway.

Shinji squeezes out of the booth and walks in the direction of the bar, leaving Ilkay next to an empty seat on one side and Schmelle (who is now showing his photos to Nuri) on his other side.

Ilkay knows what Lukasz would say right now if he hadn’t declined to come along tonight.

_Duh._

But Lukasz isn’t here tonight, and Shinji, a guy magnet beyond all of Newton’s laws, pulling dudes in with a force that’s immeasurable in Tesla, is chatting with someone at the bar.

The guy is tall as hell, almost crouching on the bar table to be able to face Shinji. Ilkay can’t really see his face, except for the fact that there’s some beard, but he can read that the guy’s tank top says _I Hate Bubble Tea_.

Ilkay rolls his eyes.

Shinji is doing a writing motion in the air, probably asking whether the dude wants an autograph. The bubble tea hater however shakes his head, leans down even further (which Ilkay didn’t think was anatomically possible) and puts his hand on Shinji’s arm.

He’s not doing anything else with his hand, he’s just keeping it there and then he’s laughing. Maybe about the bubble tea he’s going to order ironically.

Shinji joins the laughter, and suddenly Ilkay’s view gets blocked by Marco squeezing inzo Shinji’s now unoccupied seat.

“Hey,” Ilkay says distractedly and leans forward so he can look at what’s going on at the bars.

Marco turns his head to follow Ilkay’s line of sight, then he huffs and slumps back to muster Ilkay. It might have been a more formidable sight if Marco didn’t have glitter over his entire hair and face and wasn’t sweating that much.

“You act like you’re his jealous boyfriend. Come on.”

Ilkay doesn’t reply, because what the hell is he supposed to say to that? He just wants to keep sulking and staring at the back of Mr No To Bubble Tea, hoping that he might catch fire at some point.

Marco however gapes at Ilkay, eyebrows drawn up to his hairline. “You’re kidding! I was only joking!”

Ilkay looks at Marco and has to process the conversation for a second before it makes sense.

“Shut up. It’s not like that,” he replies.

“The gent doth protest too much, methinks.”

“What, first I don’t say anything and it implies something, and then I do say something and it also implies something?”

“...Yes?” Marco answers slowly, squinting like he doesn’t really understand what Ilkay said.

“Just look at that guy, would you,” Ilkay says and nods his head in direction of the bar.

“That’s a top that says _I Hate Bubble Tea_.”

“See?”

“Actually... yes, I do. Go over there and knock some sense into that boy.”

When Ilkay gets up, Marco holds him back by his wrist and adds, “And when I say boy, I mean Shinji, okay?”

Ilkay snorts and shakes off Marco’s hand. He’s not sure what exactly his plan is, but he’s just going to figure it out on the spot.

Standing behind Shinji and the terrible dude unnoticed, Ilkay’s subconscious apparently decides that it’s best to step up to Shinji and loosely lay his arm around his waist like a sleaze.

“Hey,” Ilkay says to Shinji, glancing at Lord I Love Novelty Shirts in the shallowest way possible. “I was just wondering whatever happened to the drink you promised me.”

Shinji whirls around, but there’s no surprise on his face, only joy and it makes Ilkay’s stomach jump a bit.

“I’m so sorry,” Shinji replies, not mentioning how close they are, “he just asked me something and I totally forgot.”

Ilkay looks at the other dude directly now and gloats as the guy’s eyes flicker from Shinji to Ilkay to Ilkay’s arm around Shinji.

“Sorry, man,” the guy says, defensively holding his hands up. “I didn’t know. I didn’t wanna, like, meddle.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Shinji says honestly, a second before Ilkay can tell the dude to not fucking meddle then. “We’re going to get our drinks now.”

“Have a nice night,” the dude mumbles as goodbye. Good riddance, although Ilkay does feel the tiniest bit of guilt.

The shot Shinji has ordered for him washes away that remainder of bad conscience though and from there it either all goes downhill or very steeply uphill, depending on which way you’d hold the camera.

Ilkay actually joins the others on the dance floor for the first time, because Shinji asks him to and they awkwardly step on each others’ feet to the beats – but it’s awesome.

One drink tastes like the next and at some point Ilkay drags Shinji back to their booth by the lapels of his jacket and hugs him so long that he doesn’t know whether it’s the alcohol or something else that’s making him feel fuzzy.

Suddenly, though, it’s 5 am, Shinji is asleep on Ilkay’s shoulder, breathing steadily against Ilkay’s neck, and Ilkay is staring through the bottom of his glass, ignoring the familiar voices from two guys making out under the next table. It’s way longer than they’ve stayed at the clubs the previous times.

Ilkay would probably have been quite okay with sitting there for days to come, but if anyone here is going to be responsible, it’s going to be him, so he softly nudges Shinji to wake him up.

Shinji blinks and mumbles something as Ilkay helps him up, then he yawns and his eyes fall closed again.

“We’re going home,” Ilkay says close to Shinji’s ear, and Shinji nods.

“’kay. ‘anks,” Shinji manages, before he leans his full weight on Ilkay’s side again.

Luckily Auba and Marco (clothes dishevelled, hair unblemished) are nearby, and Ilkay simply assigns them to help him.

Together, Auba and Marco support Shinji so they can stumble towards the exit and to Auba’s car.

Ilkay tells everyone who’s still out and about in the club that they’re leaving, until Nuri stops him on his way to follow the others outside.

“Oh, oh, hey, Ilkay!” Nuri half-shouts over the music, “I need your advice real quick. Do you think I should ask Schmelle?“

Ilkay waits for him to finish the sentence, but Nuri never does, just stares expectantly, shaking his glass of alcohol-free beer. Everyone in this joint has gone positively mad. Not excluding Ilkay.

“Ask Schmelle what?”

“Like, he lives next to me, right? And he comes over often. We talk, we walk his fucking dogs together. That’s gotta mean something, right? Right? I mean, you, Shinji, you, you’d know? He always complains about me being late, but I think he’s joking. Help me.”

“Nuri. What are you talking about?” Ilkay throws a look over to Marco who’s stuck his head through the entrance door, making impatient grimaces.

Nuri however lights up. “So you’re saying I should ask Schmelle? Thanks, man!”

“Uh, yeah? Sure. Ask him?”

“You’re a real friend,” Nuri says and gives Ilkay a tight hug before vanishing as suddenly as he appeared.

“Come the fuck on,” Marco calls, no regard for Nuri’s apparent crisis.

Shinji is already sitting in the backseat of Auba’s car, dozing with his head leaning against the window. Ilkay sits down in the seat beside him and Marco gets into the passenger seat.

The drive to Shinji’s house is quiet, with only the turned down radio playing in the car, and the atmosphere makes Ilkay sober up a bit again.

When they’ve arrived, Marco helps Ilkay half-carry half-push Shinji, while Auba is waiting in the car.

Marco doesn’t comment on the fact that Ilkay has a key to Shinji’s apartment, but Ilkay can definitely feel the inquiring look on him.

He leads them into Shinji’s bedroom, where he just tucks Shinji in, only taking off his shoes and shirt beforehand.

“Sleep a bit,” Ilkay says softly, and Shinji hums in response, curling up under his blanket. His hair is a mess and his cheeks are blotchy, but Ilkay knows he himself doesn’t look much better. It looks... nice on Shinji though.

Ilkay picks up Shinji’s clothes on his way out and closes the door behind Marco and himself.

“Are you going to go back?” Ilkay asks, walking towards the supply closet.

“To the club? Nah. Auba and I are going to get some sleep, too.”

Marco follows Ilkay as he pushes Shinji’s clothes into the washing machine in the closet, along with the rest of the old clothes pile and the detergent and closes the door of the machine.

When Ilkay looks up, he finds Marco mustering him, head tilted.

“What?” Ilkay asks, pressing the power button.

Marco seems to try frowning and squinting at the same time, which makes him look like he’s high.

“Did you just – do Shinji’s laundry?” he asks, glancing from the washing machine to Ilkay and back.

“I – yeah. I mean, it was... there.”

“Okay,” Marco says slowly. “Okay.”

He sounds more weirded out than Ilkay thinks he should, because after all Ilkay only picked up a couple of clothes, nothing more. Maybe Marco has never used a washing machine. Through a somewhat drunken veil, that thought seems actually funny.

“Are you sure you two aren’t...?” Marco adds, swirling his index finger in a loop in the air.

“Aren’t you tired? I’m tired,” Ilkay sighs. “See you in training.”

Surprisingly Marco doesn’t press on. Instead he pulls Ilkay in a one-armed hug and then indeed leaves, wishing him a good night.

The flat is quiet, except for the white noise without specific source that always fills nights. Ilkay peeks through the door of the bedroom to check on Shinji again, before taking off his shoes and shirt and lying down under a blanket on Shinji’s couch.

 

* * *

 

Ilkay doesn’t know why he thought that that night and their breakfast together afterwards could have in any way changed the fact that everyone loves Shinji. Not that he’d have wanted that either, but somehow he had hoped for a couple of fewer propositions from random guys when the team heads to the gay bar again.

This time around, it’s not Mr Say No To Bubble Tea at least, but somebody who introduces himself as ‘Mike with a c’.

Ilkay has to begrudgingly admit that Mike with a c does know quite a bit about football, but that also means that he can appreciate Shinji’s talent and sweet-talk him so much Ilkay wants to retch.

It’s just not necessary. Mike with a c is not necessary. Shinji knows that he’s good, and Ilkay is always there to reassure him.

“Is anything wrong?” Shinji asks when he notices that Ilkay hasn’t said anything for the past half an hour and has also inconspicuously scotched closer to Shinji.

“Huh?”

“Everything alright? You seem... elsewhere.”

Yes, Ilkay thinks, he’s at his happy place where Shinji doesn’t get up with Marco, Adrian, Henrikh and _Mike_ to dance.

Ilkay doesn’t want to dance.

That’s a lie, he actually does want to, but –

It sucks. That’s all Ilkay can think and he doesn’t even want to consider much why exactly it sucks. He feels whole when Shinji’s there, and he doesn’t when he’s not, so that’s definitely tops his list of revelations for the evening. Damn those feelings.

Ilkay reaches for a clear drink in the middle of the mess on their table. It’s not water and it’s not his own either, but it tastes great anyway.

“Is that a good idea?” Auba butts in from the side, as Ilkay pours the remainder of his first drink into a second drink that looks like it doesn't contain alcohol.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” Ilkay deadpans and takes a swig that frankly tastes so horrible that he’s not going to try again.

“What kills you makes you _dead_.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Seriously, Ilkay, how long have you been sitting on that one?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind.” Auba shakes his head. “Where’s Shinji?”

Ilkay frowns. “On the dance floor.”

“No, he isn’t.”

“What...? Are you asking me or telling me then?” Ilkay turns around, and indeed he can’t see Shinji doing his awkward twists anymore, but he could anywhere.

“He’s not there. Neither is Mike.”

“With a c.”

Auba groans. “Ilkay!”

“Alright, alright. I’m going to look for him.” Ilkay gets up, slightly suspicious of Auba’s behaviour. He scans the crowd on the floor, but can’t see Shinji anywhere, so he checks a couple of booths, but no luck there either.

Yes, Ilkay feels daft for running around here like some grade C detective, because he’s got both commitment and withdrawal issues, and his life isn’t as easy as Roman’s who’s gladly been showing off his tattoos for the whole evening.

What Ilkay finds, among other things, is Sokratis almost running an autograph business next to the stage, Christian trying to teach Felix English, Nuri and Schmelle making out in a bathroom. Ilkay wonders how much he’s missing while he was busy pining during all of the team’s gay club adventures.

What he doesn’t find, is Shinji.

He’s about to give up, when he gets the idea to check the anteroom of the bar. He does, kind of, get lucky there.

Ilkay turns around the corner, and he sees Shinji backed against a wall, Mikey C in front of him and the guy presses his lips on Shinji’s the moment Ilkay lays eyes on them.

He isn’t violent or anything, but Shinji seems completely taken by surprise, his eyes wide open and his hands hovering in the air.

Ilkay has never hated anyone that much in his life before. He doesn’t even know where the rush of anger is coming from, but Mike has only met Shinji today, while Ilkay has translated Shinji’s life to Qatar and back. Okay, so that’s a bit selfish as well, whatever.

Ilkay grabs Mike by his shirt and tears the guy away from Shinji with more force than he probably would have needed.

He ignores the shocked yelps and, for the contender of worst spontaneous idea of the century, swings his fist into the guy’s face. It’s satisfying, even though Ilkay’s knuckles burn like hell, but he definitely didn’t expect for Mike to punch back.

Mike hits him squarely in between eye and nose, probably even better than Ilkay got him. He draws back his hand and whispers, “Holy shit,” as soon as he realises what he’s done.

Before Ilkay can respond anything or reach out to Shinji, he feels hands pulling him away from Mike, vaguely recognising that they are the hands of his team mates.

He hears Gonzo say, “That’s a headline,” through the rush of the blood in his ears, and then he sees Shinji staring at him blankly, arms tucked against his chest.

Ilkay tears himself free from the others’ grip and hurries outside with the only thought in his head to get away and breathe some fresh air outside.

Only when he’s leaning against one of the brick walls in the darkness of the side street, Ilkay notices that his nose is bleeding.

He wipes at his nose with his sleeve, because at least that’s one thing he can take care of right now. He fucked up, so what, isn’t the first time, he’ll just sit here in this alley for the rest of life and cry a little.

Shinji ruins that plan, as always saving Ilkay from himself, as he walks out of the club’s exit.

"Are you okay?" he asks, hands balled in the pockets of his jacket. He must have thrown it on before following Ilkay outside.

"You should ask the other guy that," Ilkay replies and he can't help that it sounds a bit reproachful. He’s bleeding ounces from his face, cut him some slack.

"He's fine. I think. Lukasz got him a ice pack and a cab. Are _you_ okay?"

Shinji crouches down next to where Ilkay is kneeling now. His feet are in the middle of five or six drops of Ilkay's blood, but if he notices, he doesn't care.

"Show me, idiot," Shinji says and carefully lifts Ilkay's hand from where it was pressed against his face. His touches are soft and cool, but the quick grimace that twists his face for a second before it’s gone again paints a less nice picture of the wounds.

“I hope he didn’t ruin my face.”

 “Still pretty, don’t worry,” Shinji reassures him, and there’s something in his voice that Ilkay really wants to hear.

 "I'm sorry," Ilkay starts hesitantly, because he doesn’t know what else to say, but Shinji waves it away.

 "We have to get you cleaned up."

 "I can't go back inside there."

 Shinji looks at him for a long moment, before he shrugs. "So let's drive to your house."

Ilkay sucks in a breath of relief and carefully takes the hand Shinji is offering to help him up.

The cab ride is awkward, but it’s a nice contrast of calmness as well, and Ilkay spends his time glancing at Shinji out of the corner of his eye. The street lights throw patches of dirty yellow through the car window and across Shinji’s face.

There’s a hidden smile there, too, and Ilkay realises why when he feels a set of idle fingers on the back of his hand that he’s set down in the middle between their seats.

Shinji’s hand feels small and cold, and Ilkay almost doesn’t dare breathing in fear of Shinji pulling it away. It’s a dumb thought though and Ilkay shakes his head for thinking it.

Nothing’s changed; it’s still the two of them, except Ilkay has punched a man for Shinji now. Well, more for himself, but that’s not a story to tell anyone.

Ilkay wants to say something, but he doesn’t have the guts, not even when they’ve arrived at his house, and Shinji tells Ilkay to sit down and let him do it.

Without even having to ask where, Shinji gets a wet cloth and finds the ice packs in the fridge.

“Put it on your eye,” he says and hands it to Ilkay, sitting down next to him and watching him intently. “We walked into the anteroom a minute before you got there and he asked me whether he could try something and I said yes. It took me by surprise, but he wasn’t some creep-o, really.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t want him to kiss me,” Shinji hurries to add, kneading his hands in his lap. Ilkay bites back the satisfaction. Take that, Mike with a c. “But you didn’t have to punch him.”

“I’m sorry,” Ilkay mumbles.

There’s a moment of silence during which Shinji rubs his hands across his face, and Ilkay really just wants to say, “So! Guess what!” He doesn’t.

“You’re being weird,” Shinji says. “You’ve been weird the whole evening. And the ones before. What’s going on?”

“I’m not being weird.”

Shinji makes a displeased noise. “You _punched_ someone. I _know_ you. You _are_ being weird.”

He leans closer, moves right up in Ilkay’s face, looking him directly in the eyes. Or eye, to be accurate, since Ilkay’s still covering one of those with the ice pack.

“Tell me.”

“It annoyed me. All those guys and you totally –“ Ilkay stops, rethinks, “no, this sounds dumb.”

“Tell me.”

Ilkay can feels Shinji’s breath on his face. The aftershave. That’s how close he is.

“You were paying more attention to them than to me. See? I sound like some self-entitled bastard.”

Shinji’s facial expression is unreadable, which is weird, because Ilkay’s used to reading him like an open book. Now Ilkay is having a hard time focusing at all, only partly due to the pain in his wound.

“They were fans and everything, I was just being nice,” Shinji says slowly, as if putting weight on his words. “You know I’d never put you aside.”

His eyes, pupils large, flicker down Ilkay’s face and back up. Ilkay almost forgets to press down on the ice pack.

“Are you – Are you being nice now?” Ilkay swallows.

Shinji huffs and turns his face away.

“Ilkay,” he mutters, almost sounding embarrassed, “you have slept in my bed. You’ve done my laundry, you’ve made me breakfast. The others joke about it. Hell, I have slept in your bed.”

“I guess.” Ilkay musters Shinji through his unharmed eye, unsure where this is going. It’s true. It’s the kind of domesticity they’ve got going on amongst the TV evenings and phone calls.

“So, am I just being nice now?” Shinji takes breath. “No.”

Ilkay feels his stomach do at least three somersaults. But he’s already made one impulsive mistake today and got the bruise to show it, so he prays that he’s getting this one right.

“Can I, can I kiss you?”

Shinji presses his lips on Ilkay’s almost before Ilkay has finished the sentence and Ilkay drops the ice pack in surprise. Shinji leans against Ilkay so eagerly that Ilkay is nearly falling backwards onto the couch, Shinji’s full weight on him.

Ilkay forgets to kiss back for a moment, until his heart beating staccato reminds him that this is very much real. He holds onto Shinji for his dear life, losing time in the touch of his soft lips and warm skin.

When their noses touch, Ilkay winces and lifts his hand to his face. Damn wound.

“Shit,” Shinji says, out of breath, “I’m so,” he softly kisses Ilkay again, minding the wound this time, “sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Ilkay laughs with relief, so much stress from the past weeks just crumbling away under Shinji’s hands.

“Your eye looks horrible.”

“Wow, thanks.”

Shinji playfully swats at him. “You know what I mean.”

Ilkay nods and grabs the ice pack from the floor.

“Is this... okay?” he asks, unsure what answers he expects and what the real question even is.

But Shinji smiles and bites his lips and nods and touches Ilkay’s arm and – says, “Yeah.”

Ilkay realises happily he was right. It is, after all, just the two of them as they always have been, inevitably drawn to each other.

“Could we maybe lie down for a bit?” he asks, gesturing at his black eye and the still dark night outside the windows.

“Yeah, of course,” Shinji agrees, taking Ilkay’s hand and rubbing his thumb over his palm.

So Ilkay takes Shinji to his bedroom, and he curls around him on his bed as well as he can without it hurting too much.

It feels like home to hear their quiet breaths together, and Ilkay kisses Shinji’s neck, because, well, he can now. As the tension of the night falls from Ilkay and the alcohol does its part as well, he starts getting sleepy and is about to doze off, as Shinji whispers something.

“Nuri and Schmelle are screwing each other.”

Ilkay groans.

“I know. I’m trying to forget. Great time to bring it up.”

“Sorry.”

“’S fine.” Ilkay nuzzles Shinji’s neck and presses a kiss on his shoulder.

“I think neither Nuri nor Schmelle punched anyone to get together.”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, huh?”

Shinji laughs, nudging his head against Ilkay. “Only way to find out is to stick around and see.”

And as Ilkay intertwines their fingers, he knows he’s going to be just fine, doing exactly that.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear recip, I hope you've enjoyed reading and that it was somewhat like what you expected when you chose my prompt!
> 
> I want to thank the peeps who organised the spring fling, my friends for being cool and my professors for timing my exams so that I have the time to write about football players kissing.
> 
> [tumblr](http://lahmly.tumblr.com/) / [twitter](https://twitter.com/kissthecrest) / [the endless void](http://45.media.tumblr.com/9df691d01453aa93644e591eb73a1210/tumblr_o0w4f7p5sG1uuu19co4_250.gif)


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